Photographs Poem by Andrew Herrera

My memories of you have been
reduced to photographs
scattered across the
beige carpet of my room

The corners are bent and
ink is chipped off or
scratched off.
Does it matter?

Your spirited nature is
still captured by these quick
moments; flashes
lighting up your face

A brother, you were, but
I will never know, cuz
you weren’t around and
I wasn’t around you

One memory still remains.
A photograph in my mind
of myself. I’m flying into the
air and falling into your arms

You left this world before
I was able to know you
fully. But would I
want to know you now?

There are most likely secrets
that I’ve never known about
you. Secrets that can’t be
told by a single photograph.

Mom will never tell, cuz
it’s too painful to think of.
It’s too painful to think of
you, big brother.

So I’m left with photographs
that let me remember you
the way I want to remember
you; still and happy.